


Wrap Me in Your Trauma, And I’ll Give You Mine...

by jojothecr



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Unrequited Love, Written in 2010
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-25
Updated: 2011-08-25
Packaged: 2017-10-23 01:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/244721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojothecr/pseuds/jojothecr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>It was January of 2008 when Jeffrey nearly tripped over the shadowed figure huddled on his doorstep... </em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrap Me in Your Trauma, And I’ll Give You Mine...

It was January of 2008 when Jeffrey nearly tripped over the shadowed figure huddled on his doorstep.

The night was dark; closer to morning than the evening time that he’d been planning to return home at, and the light of the streetlamp was nowhere near strong enough to reach his front door.

He didn’t need to see though. There was only one person he knew who had a tendency to show up out of nowhere and settle on his stairs, resolved to wait, possibly until Judgment day. He never even bothered to call his cell number and ask if they were actually in the same time zone.

Sometimes he thought that this man had spent the majority of their relationship, friendship, or whatever the hell used to be there, on his doorstep than with him.

“Jensen?”

The man jerked, apparently startled out of his thoughts rather abruptly by Jeffrey’s voice, and looked up, staring blankly up at him through long, wet eyelashes. “Jared got engaged.”

There was whiskey noticeable on his breath, hot and sweet, and heavy, and a faint flash of the carelessness that can only be caused by alcohol in his eyes.

Jeffrey paused for a moment, acknowledging the fact slowly, and a little surprised, but not understanding what was so tragic about it at first. It wasn’t like a sign of the apocalypse. Nor was it like they hadn’t known this was going to happen. Jared had been planning this big step forward for a long time, had been talking about it since Jeffrey could remember.

But a little closer, and a more careful look at Jensen provided answers to every question Jeffrey had asked himself so many times before; unexpected, and yet so clear and obvious.

It had been raining for the whole day; freezing, thick raindrops falling from above which had covered the pavements and roofs with a glistening layer of wetness, but it wasn’t rain that made Jensen’s eyes gleam.  
Suddenly everything started to make sense. Here lay the reason why Jensen’s visits were less and less frequent, until they were limited to one every three or four months. An explanation for what had drawn the impenetrable barrier between them, and had trashed everything they used to have and be.

Jensen’s response was short, yet there was – when translated right - everything in it. His voice was quiet, but the more unmasking, capturing two years of a lasting heartbreak that Jeffrey hadn’t known about. Not until now anyway.

Jensen wasn’t running away from him, from _them_ , Jensen was in love. With Jared.

“Oh.” Jeffrey sat down beside Jensen, ignoring the chilly, wet stone underneath him, and wondered how long Jensen had been sitting there this time around.

It was a grey day, sleepy and chilly, and Jensen’s lips were a very pale shade of pink, almost white. He was sitting on the highest step, leant against the hard wood of the front door behind him, with his hands buried in the pockets of his denim jacket. His shoulders were tense, and hunched in a poor attempt at keeping warm. He glanced up at Jeffrey sideways, without a word, but looking devastated and guilty.

Jeffrey nodded. He didn’t really know what he was agreeing with or acknowledging, but Jensen didn’t seem to care anyway.

A moment later Jeffrey stood up again, sick of the cold making its way underneath his clothes, and tired of watching the ribbons of rain that Jensen seemed to be completely fascinated with. “Come in.”

Jensen’s clothes were soaked, dripping water, and his sneakers were making funny, squelching noises when he finally got up, following Jeffrey inside.

 

“I’m not perfect.” Jensen sighed, raising his eyebrow at the mug in front of him as if trying to make it understand. “God, I _know_ I’m not... But is she?”

He seemed to be absolutely fixated on this question, rolling it over and over in his head, and zooming all his attention at it, obviously unable to concentrate on anything else. It was the fifth time he’d asked it in the less than thirty minutes since he’d come back from the bathroom; showered and warm at last, wearing Jeffrey’s old clothes. The sleeves of the plaid shirt were too long, covering Jensen’s hands up to his finger tips, and he kept stepping on the hem of his track pants. It wasn’t fair how young and vulnerable it made him look.

Jeffrey watched him quietly, listening to his pointless rambling and wondering when Jensen would finally realize that he’d already finished his coffee a few minutes ago, and now he was just chasing his spoon around an empty cup.

“How come _she is_ perfect?”

She definitely wasn’t perfect; Jeffrey was sure about that because no one was. Though there were people very close to it.

“You’re pretty damn near perfect, if you ask me.” The words were out before Jeffrey could stop them, before he even had any idea they were coming.

Dismayed, Jensen dropped the spoon into the cup, and it clattered so loudly that it made him jump. Jensen turned to face Jeffrey, his lips slightly parted in confusion, his eyes darker, deep and seemingly endless. It wasn’t the first time Jeffrey found himself drowning in that green gaze.

Jensen was staring back, looking like he was seeking something. But whatever it was, Jeffrey was sure he didn’t have it. Not tonight. Not any day before, because if he had had it, Jensen wouldn’t have walked away from him.

And still he was trapped, leaning closer even though he knew he didn’t want to, that he _shouldn't_ , because Jensen wasn’t his anymore. If he ever had been. But, _God_ , he wanted. He reached out, tracing the curve of one high cheekbone with the tips of his fingers, and then lower, over the swell of Jensen’s upper lip, waiting for Jensen to stop him. Any second now. But it never came. Instead of drawing back, Jensen shifted closer and rested his palm on Jeffrey’s knee, making his skin itch at the simple touch even through the denim of his jeans.

“Jensen.”

It was much more breathless than Jeffrey would have liked it to be. Weaker than he’d ever admit.

He was strong, self-confident, and yet Jensen had a real, albeit unconscious, talent to be able to destroy all of his defensive walls and make him nervous about the most random things.

“Jeffrey.” Jensen returned in the same tone; tense and soft, almost bewildered.

But there was nothing uncertain or shy in the way Jensen’s lips met with Jeffrey’s, dry and smooth, and so _fucking perfect_ it made Jeffrey whimper. He loved Jensen’s lips. Loved the way they parted under his own, sliding over them like water, letting him in. He missed feeling Jensen’s tongue against his own, touching and stroking, doing things that no good God fearing boy should know.

Pulling back and keeping Jeffrey’s eyes, Jensen reached for Jeffrey’s hands and put them on his waist, pushing them underneath the fabric of his borrowed shirt. His skin was hot and soft under Jeffrey’s rough palms, his hips felt slender in Jeffrey’s hold. Without realizing it, he dragged Jensen closer to himself, now desperately needing what he’d lost.

Jensen sat his fingers on the line of buttons with clear determination. Popping them slowly, almost teasingly, one by one, he lifted himself up and threw his leg over Jeffrey’s, straddling his lap.

In that moment, with Jensen’s warm and firm weight down on him, Jeffrey was lost. Done. Completely screwed up. He swallowed hard, willing his breathing to return to normal, but failing badly, because every inch of the flawless, tanned skin of Jensen’s chest that was exposed to him made his heart speed up again.

“Jensen... Jen, what you’re doin’?”

“I want you.” It was quiet, but firm. Certain. Jeffrey had never thought that he would hear these words from Jensen again. Ever.

“You want Jared,” he reminded coldly, feeling Jensen tense at the words, if only briefly.

“He’s not here,” Jensen pointed out ruefully as he let the shirt fall off his shoulders. “Never will be.”

“You want me because you can’t have Jared... That’s not exactly persuasive.”

Brushing his lips against Jeffrey’s again, light and teasing, making him seek the warmth blindly when he drew back, Jensen dropped his hands to the belt on Jeffrey’s jeans. “Maybe I just wanna feel something else than the pain and emptiness for a change.”

It was a little solace that they both, for once, wanted the same thing.

He could say no. He could push Jensen away and say no. Only... he _couldn't_.

 

 _There clearly was something about Texas boys. They were self-assured and wild, yet humble and valuing the seemingly simplest things in life, like friends and home, and family, and their moms’ smile on Sunday morning._

 _All of that was in Jensen’s eyes, in every smile, and especially that night. Something special and warm, and sad and longing at the same time. That one night out that had made Jeffrey realise that, while Jared had been pulling all the attention to himself, because he had been tall and huge, and loud, and therefore impossible to ignore, Jensen had been secretly stealing Jeffrey’s heart with his quietness._

 _He hadn’t been a shy kitten by any means, he just had a tendency to keep his distance, observe instead of question, and listen instead of talking. And he was talented, mind-blowingly, without trying too hard. He had been also pretty, unfairly handsome and sexy, and not caring in the least about any of that._

 _There had been a moment, in the middle of the smoky bar, near to midnight, when he had looked up from peeling the label off his beer bottle and their eyes had met. A second that had felt like a punch into the guts, because then Jeffrey had really noticed the guy. There had been nothing special in Jensen’s look, just the light from the spotlights above them and a hint of a smile that had grazed his lips. Green eyes and dark blonde, thick lashes. It hadn’t been even the smile, nothing more than a curling of those full lips in a friendly way, just because Jeffrey had been looking. It had been in the way Jensen had cast his eyes down and had ducked his head, almost unnoticeably, in the next second. A shadow of something more that Jeffrey hadn’t really known how to read._

 _They had kissed a week after that._

 _Walking back to the parking lot, when almost everyone else had already gone, Jeffrey had spotted Jensen coming down the stairs from his trailer. He’d looked tired, downright exhausted from being thrown against the walls and onto the floor, and cold, given the way he had been curling into his dark hoodie. He had smiled softly when he had noticed Jeffrey and had matched his steps with Jeffrey’s._

 _More lingering looks and awkward silences, and a fore-shadowing of the something that had been chasing them from the night at the bar, that neither had really dared to cross or examine closely yet, and Jeffrey had found himself tired of waiting and hesitating._

 _When Jensen had started to search his pockets for car keys, Jeffrey had stepped closer. Keys discovered, Jensen had looked up, blinking in surprise when he’d found Jeffrey much closer than he’d expected him to be._

 _Jeffrey had raised his hand and touched Jensen’s jaw-line, stilling his movements. His thumb had stroked Jensen’s bottom lip, and he’d leaned closer, Jensen’s dark gaze observing him intently._

 _“Is this okay?” he had asked, desperately hoping he hadn’t been reading all the signals wrong._

 _It had been more an exhalation than a voice. “Yeah.”_

 _Jensen had been, as Jeffrey had found out later, a little like an earthquake. Unexpected and unforeseen, hitting suddenly and catching him off guard. Unseen but lethal, leaving behind shattered roads and broken memories. He had been a quiet kind of disaster – Jeffrey hadn’t known how much and how deep he’d managed to hit him until he’d been gone._

 

The night didn’t change anything. Didn’t bring Jensen back, just re-opened old wounds that Jeffrey had thought had finally been healed.

Jensen had woken up with a headache and Jeffrey’s arm dropped possessively over his stomach. It was an ownership that could have been easily broken. And had been, when Jensen slipped out of the bed and into the shower.

Jeffrey had watched him through the glass, for a while, saw him wash away the traces Jeffrey’s fingers and lips had left on his skin. He wanted to join him, longed to go in there and touch, feel, make him tremble and fall apart again, like the night before. But he didn’t. In lieu of his desires, he continued into the kitchen where he made fresh coffee and Jensen’s favourite pancakes.

Their encounter meant nothing. Wasn’t supposed to. Jensen had come to him because he was broken and had nowhere else to go. And Jeffrey let him in, because that’s what friends did. And maybe because he was secretly hoping that there was a power in the world, some magic that would lead Jensen back to him, for real. And for good.

There wasn’t. There was only Jared.

 

It was January of 2010 when Jeffrey _tripped_ over the shadowed figure huddled on his doorstep.

Watching the shadows roll and dance across Jensen’s naked, beautiful body as he undulated above him, skin flushed and sweat-slicked, and gripping Jensen’s slender hips to foolishly try and gain some control, Jeffrey swore that this was the last time. That he _would_ say no the next time.


End file.
